The Belles and the Beasts
by RosylaGypsy
Summary: Lumiere and Babette have trouble finding time alone. The Beast needs some advice about a sensitive subject


_**AN: **Greetings, fellow B&tB Fans. As ou may have guessed, I'm rather new to this fandom, so I beg your consideration for any mistakes I may make. Although I watched Beauty and the Beast three times a day for the first three or so years of my life (no exhaggeration, just ask my parents) I have never see the musical, and I understand that lots of these fics are based on the musical. (I did see Lion King when it came to Melbourne in the summer - sheer brilliance) Anywho, I hope you enjoy this little one-shot. Please tell me if the characters are not believable or anything, as I thrive on constructive critisizm. _

_**Warnings:** Some adult themes here, nothing graphic, I swear._

_**Disclaimer: **I think it's safe to say that I don't own B&tB (though I do own a very old, very precious video - my first movie ever)_

**The Belles and the Beasts**

The corridor was completely silent. Only a tiny sliver of moonlight from a grime-covered window lit the stark blackness, illuminating the dusty floor and cobweb-adorned paintings which lined the walls. To untrained eyes, it would appear that not a soul had stepped foot in it in long years.

In other words, it was just perfect for two particular objects looking for a little, much desired, private time.

"Oh, Monsieur, you are just terrible!"

"Oui, it is one of my many faults. I shall have to make ammends."

"You will have to try hard."

"I was hoping you would say that . . ."

The silence of the corridor was broken by the arrival of the afore-mentioned objects, both of whom were whispering so as not to be heard. Their efforts were in vain, however, as anyone who should happen upon this place would have no trouble locating them. This was mainly due to the glowing light that one of them happened to walk around in - one of the many downsides of being a candlestick, unfortunately.

However, the two lovers were far too wrapped up in themselves to pay much attention to their surroundings. As grateful as they were for the arrival of "The Girl," having an actual human in the castle when it had been completely devoid of such for so long was proving to have its downsides: namely, a limited supply of places to spend time alone. Therefore, Lumiere and Babette were relishing their newly found solitude, and intended to make the most of it.

Lumiere was just pulling the feather duster into a graceful dip when she suddenly decided to take note of their location. Grimacing slightly, she whispered, "Lumiere, stop!"

Disappointed, he withdrew slightly. "What is it, cheríe?"

She glanced around. "Let's go somewhere else."

"What's wrong with this place? There is no one else here."

"I know, but I just feel. . . I don't know. . . exposed."

He sighed and wanted to argue, but Babette was giving him a wide-eyed look which she saved especially for when she wanted to convince someone to do something (it was guarranteed to work against just about every male, except maybe Cogsworth). So he simply smirked and said, "As the lady wishes."

"Merci, mon cher."

Looking around, he spied what looked like a broom closet which, for some reason, was slightly ajar. This might have seemed odd to anyone else, but Lumiere was never one to question good fortune. Pulling a willing Babette over in that direction, he reached out a wick-adorned arm to pull the door open, glad to finally have a place to spend some private time with his beloved. . .

"Oi! Do you mind? This is not a public closet."

"Oui, go find your own room!"

Lumiere slammed the door shut on the disgruntled mop and broom who had been occupying the closet, something close to a pout on his waxen features. For a moment the corridor was once again silent.

Finally Babette, who had a look on her face that was torn somewhere between irritation and amusement, cleared her throat. "It seems a broom closet isn't the private place it once was," she said ruefully.

Her escort didn't say anything. He too was reminiscing about once upon a time, when one could walk into a closet and not have to worry about being kicked out by the cleaning materials that resided in it, and when _no one_ was foolish enough to get in the way of what Lumiere did best - that is, entertaining pretty young madmoiselles.

Still, never one to stay gloomy for long, the candlestick made an effort to brighten up a bit (pardon the pun) and said, "Never mind, amour. We will just have to find somewhere else."

Babette smiled and snuggled up to him, feeling peaceful and happy. It didn't matter how much the spell had changed Lumiere appearance-wise, he would always be her shining light of optimism. . .

"LUMIERE!"

The close-by shout, followed by the impatient tapping of wood against the marble floor, signalled the arrival of the last person either of them wanted to see. Both objects groaned and rolled their eyes in irritation and Babette withdrew slightly. "I suppose we'll have to re-schedule our date," she said dolefully.

However, Lumiere simply tightened his hold on her and whispered, "A little longer cheríe. If Cogsworth got his way all the time, then he'd be spoiled. And no one likes spoiled clocks."

"Spoiled clocks yell a lot and give you extra chores," she responded, but was only too happy to relax back into her lover's embrace.

They stayed like that for a blissful few seconds, but Cogsworth's shouts were reaching a crescendo, and sounded close by, so they reluctantly pulled away from each other. "I had better get back to my chores now," Babette said softly, and started to turn away. Lumiere stopped her once more and whispered, "Twelve o'clock, the Library," he said. "I think Madmoiselle Belle would have gone to bed by then."

She grinned and responded, "Oui, amour. Until twelve then, au revoir."

"I will be counting the seconds," he called softly after her retreating feathers. When she was out of sight, he sighed and reluctantly turned around and hopped down the corridor.

The first thing that greeted Lumiere as emerged from the less used parts of the castle was a purple-faced clock looking on the vergeof a breakdown.

"You know, there's one good thing about being turned into a wooden object," he said mildly upon approaching the livid Cogsworth. "You no longer have any blood vessels, and had you been human, I'm quite sure you would have burst several by now."

Cogsworth took a deep breath to calm himself and put his short wooden arms firmly in the place where his hips might have been. "I'm sure one of these days that you'll find a way of making me do that, Lumiere, blood vessels or no," he said tightly. "I have been calling you for the past two and a half minutes you realise!"

"Calm yourself, mon ami," Lumiere said. "Now what is so urgent that you had to interrupt my lesiure time, hmm?"

Cogsworth seemed to inflate with indignation. "The Master wants to see us, and forgive me if I'm wrong, but I don't think he'd appreciate having to wait for you to finish with your non-productive nonsense!"

"Au contraire, I happen to find my 'nonsense' very productive indeed," he said, ignoring his comrade's look of distaste. "But what does the Master want to see us both for? Surely his most trusted housekeeper is much better suited to giving advice than his lowly maitre d'?"

The clock frowned. "That's what I said, but he insisted on both of us. And don't think you can buy your way out of trouble with flattery."

"That wasn't flattery, it was sarcasm."

They continued to bicker all the way up to the West Wing, where their Master resided. Both of them hesitated slightly at the door, as it had become habit to avoid this particular part of the castle as much as possible. However, the repercussions would be much worse if they took forever to show up, so Cogsworth finally reached out with his small brass-capped 'hand' and rapped nervously on the door.

A tense moment passed before it swung open to reveal the transformed Prince in all his fearsome glory. However, their customary sense of fear dropped considerably at the sight of the Beast's face - it looked rather unsettled, almost nervous.

"You called for us, Sire?" Lumiere asked.

"Er, yes." He cleared his throat. "I need your advice," he said, opening the door so they could enter.

It was a mark of how much Belle's presence had influenced the Beast that he did not growl at them for being late and/or knock them down, as he was sometimes prone to do on a particularly bad day. Still, they weren't about to complain, and they gave each other a brief, hopeful glance before coming in. "Our services are at your comand, Master," The candlestick said gallantly as they hopped onto a nearby table.

Not to be outdone, Cogsworth quickly added, "If there's a problem, we will not stop until it is solved." He glared at Lumiere, who was rolling his eyes at the clock's theatrics.

The Beast chose to ignore this silent dialogue and started pacing back and forth. The objects noticed that he was using his hind legs only - he seemed to be making more of an effort to appear as human as possible lately. He opened his mouth to speak then closed it again, apparantly unsure of how to voice whatever was bothering him.

After watching him do this several times, Lumiere finally ventured to ask, "Is this about Madmoiselle Belle, Master?"

The Beast looked up at the candlestick sharply, causing him to flinch. However, he made no move to hurt either of them, and the look in his cobalt blue eyes told them that his assumption had been correct.

"I don't know what to do," he muttered, looking more vulnerable than Cogsworth and Lumiere had seen him in a long time. "I mean, how could someone as beautiful as her ever love something like me?"

"Well you know, Sire, love isn't all just about appearances and. . . er, sexual attraction," Lumiere said, vividly reminded of the first night Belle had come to the castle. He and Mrs Potts had tried to give their Master the best advice for wooing a lady, but it hadn't turned out too well. He was determined to do a better job this time.

Cogsworth scoffed at his words. "Oh you're a fine one to talk, Mr I'll-Just-Sleep-With-Every-Eligible-Maid-In-The-Castle."

Lumiere scowled and folded his arms. "That is not true. I haven't touched another woman in years besides my Babette. And you know, it is rather hard to do any such thing that you speak of when one is a candlestick." There was a bitter note to his voice that plainly said he regretted the fact of his words deeply.

The clock blushed furiously at this, but was quick to counter with, "Well, you _used_ to be like that. And frankly, I don't think that sexual attraction is the issue here!"

The Beast, who had been watching this exchange with a hopelessly blank look in his eyes, finally shook his head rapidly and said. "Enough! What exactly _is_ sexual attraction?"

His words effectively stunned both objects into silence. They glanced around at him and Lumiere suddenly realised he was looking at a young man completely inexperienced in the wonderful wide world of women. After all, he had been just eleven years old when he'd been turned into a monster, not in the least interested in females. Both his parents had died when he was just a baby, and he'd spent all his adolescent years moping about in the dark corners of the West Wing, roaring furiously at anyone who had dared to intrude on his solitude. Needless to say, sexual education had hardly been on the servants' agenda.

Still, Lumiere wasn't to be put out, especially when it came to a subject that he was rather well versed in. "Ah, Master, when it comes to women, it is all about knowing how to handle them. You see, women love- "

Cogsworth cleared his throat loudly, cutting off his comrade's heartfelt speech. "Apologies, gentlemen, but I honstly don't think that this is an appropriate way to handle the situation."

"And why not? He is not a child, it is surely high time that he learnt about such subjects. Why, when I was his age, I. . ."

"Just because _you_ were uncontrallably women-obsessed as an adolescent doesn't account for all of us!"

"And at exactly what period of your life were you women-obsessed, hmm? Or is that point in time still yet to come?"

The Beast suddenly growled, effectifely silencing his servants and preventing what was about to escalate into a fistfight.

"Now," he said looking rather dangerous once more. "Either explain what sexual attraction is and how it can help me, or think of something else!"

Lumiere and Cogsworth glanced at each other, coming to a silent agreement. "Cogsworth is right, sexual attraction is not the issue just yet," the candlestick finally said, choosing to ignore his companion's smug smile. "Right now I think we should focus on closer goals - mutual likes and dislikes, etc - and go from there."

"Alright," the Beast said slowly. "So how do I find out what she likes?"

"Spend more time with her. Start talking about her life, and what she does. Don't ask her outright. Women expect you to pick up on the little hints and signals they give - but make sure you interpret them right or it could be disastrous. You have to be sneaky about it."

"I don't agree with that," Cogsworth interrupted suddenly. "Honesty is always the best approach when dealing with females."

"As if you know anything about dealing with women!"

"Excuse me, _I_ wasn't the one who seemed to have a permanent slap mark on my face every day!"

"Maybe because you never got close enough to a woman to receive one!"

The Beast sighed. Maybe he should just go ask Mrs Potts.

_**A.N:** Thankyou for reading. Until next time, au revoir!_

**RosylaGypsy**


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